Nussbaum, Martha Craven, Jonathan Glover and World Institute for Development Economics Research. (1995). Women, culture, and development : a study of human capabilities. Oxford ; New York: Clarendon Press ; Oxford University Press. http://www.loc.gov/catdir/enhancements/fy0605/94042602-d.html
Human Capabilities, Female Human Beings
“Women have rarely been kings, or nobles, or couriers, or rich. They have, on the other hand, frequently been poor and sick and dead” (62).
“My proposal is frankly universalist and ‘essentialist’. That is, it asks us to focus on what is common to all, rather than on differences…and to see some capabilities and functions as more central, more at the core of human life, than others” (63).
This account begins by telling stories that emerge from academic conferences. These stories involve interactions between “relativists” and “universalists”. The universalists present papers and the relativists take issue with their essentialist claims. The relativists do not want the universalists to fall into traps that do not respect basic levels of diversity and difference. The universalists want the relativists to understand that there are some underlying aspects of life that are not uniquely subjective, for example, the difference between life and death.
“For we see here highly-intelligent people, people deeply committed to the good of women and men in developing countries, people who think of themselves as progressive and feminist and anti-racist, people who correctly argue that the concept of development is an evaluative concept requiring normative argument—effectively eschewing normative argument and taking up positions that converge…with the positions of reaction, oppression, and sexism” (66).
“Many critics of universalism in ethics are really critics of metaphysical realism who assume that realism is a necessary basis for universalism. I shall argue that this assumption is false” (67-8).
“…the attack on realism has been sufficiently deep and sufficiently sustained that it would appear strategically wise for an ethical and political view that seeks broad support not to rely on the truth of metaphysical realism, if it can defend itself in some other ways” (69).
Nussbaum firstly tries to situate an argument about universality within a pragmatic framework. She understands that the relativist position does have something important to add to the broader discussion regarding the rights of women. She claims that she must be able to take her universalistic argument and defend it using different strategies than would normally be deployed. She tones down the universalist rhetoric and makes the case regarding subjective interpretation of sensory facts: the relativists believe that observations are tinged with subjectivity, and that this is what constructs narratives and discourses, etc. Nussbaum takes that position that she agrees, but she also argues that, while this may or may not be true, the history of development and academia has been a history of universals.
She also highlights some anecdotal accounts of universality among human beings, from Aristotle to a person with a broadly trans-national extended family.
She moves on to claim that she must examine her account with an eye towards more standard criticisms of universalism. She begins by looking at the, “neglect of historical and cultural differences” critique.
“The opposition charges that any attempt to pick out some elements of human life as more fundamental than others, even without appeal to a transhistorical reality, is bound to be insufficiently respectful of actual historical and cultural differences” (70). “It is far from clear what this objection shows” (71).
“Neglect of Autonomy”: This critique of universalism argues that the subject of development is not given the right to determine what they themselves want.
“Prejudicial Application”: “If we operate with a determinate conception of the human being that is meant to have some normative moral and political force, we must also, in applying it, ask which beings we shall take to fall under the concept” (71). The example of Aristotle is given: he didn’t believe that women or slaves were fully human.
However, Nussbaum argues that it is unclear whether or not we would be better off or worse off without these universal concepts: “For it could be plausibly argued that it would have been even easier to exclude women and slaves on a whim if one did not have such a concept to contend with” (72).
Nussbaum goes on to identify the central capabilities that make someone a human being.
She then lists 8 methodological points: the procedure is not ahistorical or a priori; it attempts to look across boundaries for similarities; the account is not biologtical or metaphysical; the account is open-ended; the account accepts that some accounts are constructed differently in different societies; this consensus must be reached by reasonable procedures; the list is heterogeneous; and the concept human being is normative and ethical.
Here is the account of human life:
Morality: we all die.
The Human Body: we all have one
Hunger and Thirst:
Shelter:
Sexual Desire:
Mobility:
Pain and Pleasure:
Cognitive Capacity:
Infant Development:
Practical Reason:
Affiliation with other Human Beings:
Related ness to other Species and Nature:
Humor and Play:
Separateness:
Strong Separateness:
“This is a working list. It is put out to generate debate. It has done so and will continue to do so, and it will be revised accordingly” (80). This list is composed of both capabilities and limits.
Nussbaum now attempts to identify two distinct thresholds: “…a threshold of capability to function beneath which all life will be so impoverished that it will not be human at all; and a somewhat higher threshold, beneath which those characteristic functions are available in such a reduced way that, although we may judge the form of life a human one, we will not think it a good human life. The latter threshold is the on that will eventually concern us when we turn to public policy: for we don’t want societies to make their citizens capable of the bare minimum” (81).
Nussbaum then argues that it should be capabilities and functioning that determine human well being. She lists these in section 4.1, and they are derivatives of her earlier account of what makes a human life. She then examines how well countries have been meeting the needs of their populations. She claims that there is a clear need for a conception of a human being in policy realms.
Showing posts with label Subject/Object. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Subject/Object. Show all posts
Monday, April 21, 2008
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Carr: What is History?
Carr, E. H. (1961). What is history? London, New York, Macmillan; St. Martin's Press.
Carr writes about epistemology, about what we know and how we know what we know. He begins his book by exploring the relationship between the historian, fact and knowledge. “A fact is like a sack—it won’t stand up till you’ve put something in it” (9).
A historical fact is one that has been given a life of its own by society, academia and a combination of contingent and determinant forces that bring it to the forefront of all other facts. On pages 10-1, Carr takes great care to examine a fact that may or may not be turned into a historical fact. The fact was the murder of a gingerbread baker by a mob, and this fact stood simply as that, a fact of history, but not yet a historic fact, until Dr. Kitson Clark came around and cited it. This, in Carr’s estimation, does not mean that it is destined to be a historical fact, but rather that it now has more potential to be a historical fact than it had previous to this citation. Historic fact, however, does not make history, but it is rather made by the subjective judgment of individuals.
Carr then looks at the relationship between the individual and society and claims that it is impossible to know which came first, which was a driver of the creation of the other. He goes on to talk about how the individual and society constantly play off one another, and concludes by mentioning Hegel’s Hero.
The view which I would hope to discourage is the view which places great men outside history and sees them as imposing themselves on history in virtue of their greatness…” (67). Carr then goes on to lovingly quote Hegel’s definition of his Hero’s interaction with his society. In Hegel’s formulation, the Hero “can put into words the will of his age… he can actualize his age (68).
In other words, Carr’s view of history fits nicely with Hegel’s Hero: the “Great Men” of history do not materialize out of thin air, free from determinant conditions and then impose their will on everyone around them. Instead, the Hero interacting with and taking cues from society produces history.
He then moves on to examining history, science and morality. History, in Carr’s estimation, is clearly distinct from other forms of science, specifically the “hard” sciences. One reason for this qualitatively distinct character is the nature of the object to the subject, or the scientist to the subject. While Carr casts doubt on the pure objectivity of even the “hard” sciences, he is much more clear that history is clearly very subjective.
He then goes on to examine values in writing about history, and how the historian must stand at a distance from their subject and not condone or disapprove of personal decisions. The historian’s job is to write about what happened, not tell people why it was wrong or right.
Carr then moves on to look at causation in history. He looks at, what he calls, two “red-herrings” in history: Determinism in History, and Chance in History.
Carr’s definition of determinism (121) focuses on understanding the causes of effects, and being able to point to an effect and clearly identify the cause as the only way that this fact could have come about. He takes time to parry with those who would focus on Marx and Hegel’s potentially deterministic aspect of their approach to understanding history. He paints these critics as being overly simplistic, and arguing that, because contingency does seem to exist, determinant action can not. He seems to conclude this argument by claiming that, “the fact is that all human actions are both free and determined,” and thus, understanding the causes requires a nuanced approach (124).
He then goes on to look at the causes of the death of an individual. This person, Robinson, went out for cigarettes and was hit by a car. Carr wonders what the real cause of the death was.
Rational causes are causes that can be understood and applied for a purpose, or, read, for a value judgment. If we thought that we could learn something by the fact that Robinson was a smoker and he died going out to buy cigarettes, that would be a rational cause. Since it falls to the realm of chance, we say that it is accidental. Carr is not saying that rational causes are not bound up with value judgments, but simply that our value judgments make some causes rational, and some accidental.
Carr then moves on to look at history as progress. “History is progress through the transmission of acquired skills from one generation to another” (151). Progress does not have a finite beginning or end. Thirdly, progress does not progress linearly.
Then, there is the problemetization of objectivity: in the writing of history, it is akin to claiming that you have more successfully written a history that mirrors the accepted values of the society in which you live. Carr then moves onto the claim that brings the book together: one must understand the past, present and future to understand history. “History acquires meaning and objectivity only when it establishes a coherent relation between past and future” (173).
Carr writes about epistemology, about what we know and how we know what we know. He begins his book by exploring the relationship between the historian, fact and knowledge. “A fact is like a sack—it won’t stand up till you’ve put something in it” (9).
A historical fact is one that has been given a life of its own by society, academia and a combination of contingent and determinant forces that bring it to the forefront of all other facts. On pages 10-1, Carr takes great care to examine a fact that may or may not be turned into a historical fact. The fact was the murder of a gingerbread baker by a mob, and this fact stood simply as that, a fact of history, but not yet a historic fact, until Dr. Kitson Clark came around and cited it. This, in Carr’s estimation, does not mean that it is destined to be a historical fact, but rather that it now has more potential to be a historical fact than it had previous to this citation. Historic fact, however, does not make history, but it is rather made by the subjective judgment of individuals.
Carr then looks at the relationship between the individual and society and claims that it is impossible to know which came first, which was a driver of the creation of the other. He goes on to talk about how the individual and society constantly play off one another, and concludes by mentioning Hegel’s Hero.
The view which I would hope to discourage is the view which places great men outside history and sees them as imposing themselves on history in virtue of their greatness…” (67). Carr then goes on to lovingly quote Hegel’s definition of his Hero’s interaction with his society. In Hegel’s formulation, the Hero “can put into words the will of his age… he can actualize his age (68).
In other words, Carr’s view of history fits nicely with Hegel’s Hero: the “Great Men” of history do not materialize out of thin air, free from determinant conditions and then impose their will on everyone around them. Instead, the Hero interacting with and taking cues from society produces history.
He then moves on to examining history, science and morality. History, in Carr’s estimation, is clearly distinct from other forms of science, specifically the “hard” sciences. One reason for this qualitatively distinct character is the nature of the object to the subject, or the scientist to the subject. While Carr casts doubt on the pure objectivity of even the “hard” sciences, he is much more clear that history is clearly very subjective.
He then goes on to examine values in writing about history, and how the historian must stand at a distance from their subject and not condone or disapprove of personal decisions. The historian’s job is to write about what happened, not tell people why it was wrong or right.
“The serious historian is the one who recognizes the historically conditioned character of all values, not the one who claims for his own values an objectivity beyond history. The beliefs which we hold and the standards of judgment which we set up are part of history, and are as much subject to historical investigation as any other aspect of human behaviour. Few sciences today-least of all, the social sciences-would lay claim to total independence. But history has no fundamental dependence on something outside itself which would differentiate it from any other science” (109).
Carr then moves on to look at causation in history. He looks at, what he calls, two “red-herrings” in history: Determinism in History, and Chance in History.
Carr’s definition of determinism (121) focuses on understanding the causes of effects, and being able to point to an effect and clearly identify the cause as the only way that this fact could have come about. He takes time to parry with those who would focus on Marx and Hegel’s potentially deterministic aspect of their approach to understanding history. He paints these critics as being overly simplistic, and arguing that, because contingency does seem to exist, determinant action can not. He seems to conclude this argument by claiming that, “the fact is that all human actions are both free and determined,” and thus, understanding the causes requires a nuanced approach (124).
He then goes on to look at the causes of the death of an individual. This person, Robinson, went out for cigarettes and was hit by a car. Carr wonders what the real cause of the death was.
Rational causes are causes that can be understood and applied for a purpose, or, read, for a value judgment. If we thought that we could learn something by the fact that Robinson was a smoker and he died going out to buy cigarettes, that would be a rational cause. Since it falls to the realm of chance, we say that it is accidental. Carr is not saying that rational causes are not bound up with value judgments, but simply that our value judgments make some causes rational, and some accidental.
Carr then moves on to look at history as progress. “History is progress through the transmission of acquired skills from one generation to another” (151). Progress does not have a finite beginning or end. Thirdly, progress does not progress linearly.
Then, there is the problemetization of objectivity: in the writing of history, it is akin to claiming that you have more successfully written a history that mirrors the accepted values of the society in which you live. Carr then moves onto the claim that brings the book together: one must understand the past, present and future to understand history. “History acquires meaning and objectivity only when it establishes a coherent relation between past and future” (173).
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Badiou: Ethics
Badiou, Alain. (2001). Ethics : an essay on the understanding of evil. London ; New York: Verso.
Ethics are everywhere in modern society. Nearly every profession has an ethic that their professionals must uphold. Institutions, be them small county legislative boards or international and monstrous, like the IMF, have codes of conduct. “With respect to today’s socially inflated recourse to ethics, the purpose of this essay is twofold:”
In the section that deals with the subject, Badiou begins by examining three thinkers who rejected the universal in favor of the particular. Foucault, Althusser and Lacan are all highlighted as people who looked towards the construction of language, towards processes, and contingency for their clues as to the formulation of theory. Badiou is clear that these thinkers are not indifferent to suffering, as some would claim because of their lack of focus on objectivity. No, “the truth is exactly the opposite: all were—each in his own way, and far more than those who uphold the cause of ‘ethics’ and ‘human rights’ today—the attentive and courageous militants of a cause” (6).
The current, modern construction of ethical is then examined. It is understood to be a priori, negative determinations of evil. He then highlights some of the themes of this project of ethics: a general human subject is posited, politics is subordinate to ethics, Evil is that from which Good is derived and that ‘Human Rights’ are rights to non-Evil (9).
This ethic has become unethical. It is characterized by universal self-interest, a lack of (truly) emancipatory politics and competition. It calls into question what man is, or whether s/he exists. This ethical project identifies people as victims. It reduces man to the level of an animal. It identifies man as the source of evil. It prevents itself from thinking singularly through its negative determination of Evil.
This is not the way to be faithful to ethics or to a situation. To be faithful means, “to treat it right to the limit of possibility. Or, if you prefer: to draw from this situation, to the greatest possible extent, the affirmative humanity that it contains. Or again: to try to be the immortal of the situation” (15).
Badiou rejects this negative and victimizing view of humanity. However, he ends the section with a play-critique from an ethicist: the ethic doesn’t begin with the subject, it begins with the other.
Does the Other Exist?
Badiou begins by looking at Lévinas’ view of the other and determines that a strictly Western, Greek origin of the term will not suffice and that rather a Jewish origin will be more helpful. “The Law, indeed, does not tell me what is, but what is imposed by the existence of others” (19).
This “other”, however, should not be seen as a simple “not-self”, but rather a radical Absolute Other, or, according to Badiou, the ethical name for God. “This means that in order to be intelligible, ethics requires that the Other be in some sense carried by a principle of alterity which transcends mere finite experience” (22). The ethical obligation stems from this radical alterity which is not bound by space and time, i.e. God.
But, since God does not exist (25), what are we left with? We are left with an infinite alterity which is what is there. The differences that we experience between distinct groups of people exist, but that is not what brings together. What brings together is truth, or rather, what deposes difference: in my terms, common experience.
Ethics as a Figure of Nihilism
“Ethics is nihilist because its underlying conviction is that the only thing that can really happen to someone is death” (35). Badiou then proceeds into the realm of bio-ethics, biopolitics, etc.
The Ethic of Truths
“If there is no ethics ‘in general’, that is because there is no abstract Subject, who would adopt it as his shield. There is only a particular kind of animal, convoked by certain circumstances to become a subject—or rather, to enter into the composing of a subject” (40). Ethics is a process whereby the subject needs something to have happened, the subject needs an event that goes beyond the universal and identifies the subject in the particular. The subject has to be honest with the event, and respond faithfully to it. “I shall call ‘truth’ (a truth) the real process of a fidelity to an event: that which this fidelity produces in the situation” (42).
The Problem of Evil
Badiou has already explained how an a priori justification of the concept of Evil is problematic. He then goes on to explain where we must begin to examine the existence of Evil. “If Evil exists, we must conceive it from the starting point of the Good. Without consideration of the Good, and thus of truths, there remains only the cruel innocence of life, which is beneath Good and beneath Evil” (60).
He goes on to claim that, of course there is Evil (look at the Nazi’s), but that the Evil only exists because of truths, and that these truths, though they create Evil, do their best to wipe it out. The process works like this: there is an event, a realization, cognitive disequilibrium, which brings about the seed of truth. Then, there is fidelity and exploration of this event. Finally, there is the truth that is created through a process, that is always in a state of yet-to-be. This allows for the three terrors of Badiou: terror (through simulacrum of truth), betrayal (of fidelity), and disaster (the identification of a truth with total power).
Conclusion
Also:
Fun Quote:
Ethics are everywhere in modern society. Nearly every profession has an ethic that their professionals must uphold. Institutions, be them small county legislative boards or international and monstrous, like the IMF, have codes of conduct. “With respect to today’s socially inflated recourse to ethics, the purpose of this essay is twofold:”
“-To begin with, I will examine the precise nature of this phenomenon, which is the major ‘philosophical’ tendency of the day, as much in public opinion as for official institutions. I will try to establish that in reality it amounts to a genuine nihilism, a threatening denial of thought as such.The structure of the book proceeds from the subject (Does Man Exist?) to the object (Does the Other Exist?). It then explains how our current discourse of ethics edges towards nihilism (Ethics as a Figure of Nihilism). The final two chapters represent an argument for a different construction of ethics (The Ethic of Truths) and the sorting out of one of the problems with this argument (The Problem of Evil).
-I will then argue against this meaning of the term ‘ethics’, and propose a very different one. Rather than link the word to abstract categories (Man or Human, Right or Law, the Other…), it should be referred back to particular situations. Rather than reduce it to an aspect of pity for victims, it should become the enduring maxim of singular processes. Rather than make of it merely the province of conservatism with a good conscience, it should concern the destiny of truths, in the plural (3)”
In the section that deals with the subject, Badiou begins by examining three thinkers who rejected the universal in favor of the particular. Foucault, Althusser and Lacan are all highlighted as people who looked towards the construction of language, towards processes, and contingency for their clues as to the formulation of theory. Badiou is clear that these thinkers are not indifferent to suffering, as some would claim because of their lack of focus on objectivity. No, “the truth is exactly the opposite: all were—each in his own way, and far more than those who uphold the cause of ‘ethics’ and ‘human rights’ today—the attentive and courageous militants of a cause” (6).
The current, modern construction of ethical is then examined. It is understood to be a priori, negative determinations of evil. He then highlights some of the themes of this project of ethics: a general human subject is posited, politics is subordinate to ethics, Evil is that from which Good is derived and that ‘Human Rights’ are rights to non-Evil (9).
This ethic has become unethical. It is characterized by universal self-interest, a lack of (truly) emancipatory politics and competition. It calls into question what man is, or whether s/he exists. This ethical project identifies people as victims. It reduces man to the level of an animal. It identifies man as the source of evil. It prevents itself from thinking singularly through its negative determination of Evil.
This is not the way to be faithful to ethics or to a situation. To be faithful means, “to treat it right to the limit of possibility. Or, if you prefer: to draw from this situation, to the greatest possible extent, the affirmative humanity that it contains. Or again: to try to be the immortal of the situation” (15).
Badiou rejects this negative and victimizing view of humanity. However, he ends the section with a play-critique from an ethicist: the ethic doesn’t begin with the subject, it begins with the other.
Does the Other Exist?
Badiou begins by looking at Lévinas’ view of the other and determines that a strictly Western, Greek origin of the term will not suffice and that rather a Jewish origin will be more helpful. “The Law, indeed, does not tell me what is, but what is imposed by the existence of others” (19).
This “other”, however, should not be seen as a simple “not-self”, but rather a radical Absolute Other, or, according to Badiou, the ethical name for God. “This means that in order to be intelligible, ethics requires that the Other be in some sense carried by a principle of alterity which transcends mere finite experience” (22). The ethical obligation stems from this radical alterity which is not bound by space and time, i.e. God.
But, since God does not exist (25), what are we left with? We are left with an infinite alterity which is what is there. The differences that we experience between distinct groups of people exist, but that is not what brings together. What brings together is truth, or rather, what deposes difference: in my terms, common experience.
“The only genuine ethics is of truths in the plural—or, more precisely, the only ethics is of processes of truth, of the labour that brings some truths into the world” (28).
Ethics as a Figure of Nihilism
“Ethics is nihilist because its underlying conviction is that the only thing that can really happen to someone is death” (35). Badiou then proceeds into the realm of bio-ethics, biopolitics, etc.
“Considered as a figure of nihilism, reinforced by the fact that our societies are without a figure that can be represented as universal, ethics oscillates between two complementary desires: a conservative desire, seeking global recognition for the legitimacy of the order peculiar to our “Western’ position—the interweaving of an unbridled and impassive economy with a discourse of law; and a murderous desire that promotes and shrouds, in one and the same gesture, an integral mastery of life—or again, that dooms what is to the ‘Western’ mastery of death” (38).
The Ethic of Truths
“If there is no ethics ‘in general’, that is because there is no abstract Subject, who would adopt it as his shield. There is only a particular kind of animal, convoked by certain circumstances to become a subject—or rather, to enter into the composing of a subject” (40). Ethics is a process whereby the subject needs something to have happened, the subject needs an event that goes beyond the universal and identifies the subject in the particular. The subject has to be honest with the event, and respond faithfully to it. “I shall call ‘truth’ (a truth) the real process of a fidelity to an event: that which this fidelity produces in the situation” (42).
The Problem of Evil
Badiou has already explained how an a priori justification of the concept of Evil is problematic. He then goes on to explain where we must begin to examine the existence of Evil. “If Evil exists, we must conceive it from the starting point of the Good. Without consideration of the Good, and thus of truths, there remains only the cruel innocence of life, which is beneath Good and beneath Evil” (60).
He goes on to claim that, of course there is Evil (look at the Nazi’s), but that the Evil only exists because of truths, and that these truths, though they create Evil, do their best to wipe it out. The process works like this: there is an event, a realization, cognitive disequilibrium, which brings about the seed of truth. Then, there is fidelity and exploration of this event. Finally, there is the truth that is created through a process, that is always in a state of yet-to-be. This allows for the three terrors of Badiou: terror (through simulacrum of truth), betrayal (of fidelity), and disaster (the identification of a truth with total power).
Conclusion
“This maxim [an acceptable concept of ethics] proclaims, in its general version, ‘Keep going!’ Continue to be this ‘someone’, a human animal among others, which nevertheless finds itself seized and displaced by the eventual process of a truth. Continue to be the active part of that subject of a truth that you have happened to become” (90-1).
Also:
“The ethics combines, then, under the imperative to ‘Keep going!’, resources of discernment (do not fall for simulacra), of courage (do not give up), and of moderation (do not get carried away to the extremes of Totality)” (91).
Fun Quote:
“Our century has been a graveyard of positivist ideas and progress” (84)
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Schmitt: The Concept of the Political
Schmitt, Carl, & Schmitt, Carl. (2007). The concept of the political (Expanded ed.). Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
For Schmitt, the political is threatened by plurality and liberalism, and threatens to undermine the state and create a world whereby “humanitarian” can be used to justify the heinous. The political is necessary for us to understand where divisions are drawn; it is a necessary classification to clear the air of any foggy relativism brought about by the “perhaps” of liberalism.
Schmitt begins by looking at a number of different concepts that have clear, binary categories into which they can be divided. Economic can be divided into profit/loss. Ascetics can be divided into beautiful/ugly. Religious can be divided into good/bad. For Schmitt, “The specific political distinction to which political actions and motives can be reduced is that between friend and enemy” (26).
Going on,
Schmitt has a problem with liberalism:
Liberals do not understand or embrace the friend/enemy distinction, and this is problematic. Liberals would rather engage in economic competition with what should be their enemies. However, when it comes down to the task of making war, a real possibility in the affairs of states, the liberal will be baffled because they do not know who their enemies are. For the liberal, they have only amenable competitors. “War is the external negation of an enemy” (33).
The political friend/enemy distinction makes it clear where one’s loyalties lie:
The concept of Humanity is problematic for Schmitt. Firstly, “Humanity as such cannot wage war because it has no enemy, at least not on this planet” (54): it is problematic because it does not allow for the friend/enemy distinction. Schmitt goes on:
For Schmitt, the political is threatened by plurality and liberalism, and threatens to undermine the state and create a world whereby “humanitarian” can be used to justify the heinous. The political is necessary for us to understand where divisions are drawn; it is a necessary classification to clear the air of any foggy relativism brought about by the “perhaps” of liberalism.
Schmitt begins by looking at a number of different concepts that have clear, binary categories into which they can be divided. Economic can be divided into profit/loss. Ascetics can be divided into beautiful/ugly. Religious can be divided into good/bad. For Schmitt, “The specific political distinction to which political actions and motives can be reduced is that between friend and enemy” (26).
Going on,
“The political enemy need not be morally evil or aesthetically ugly; he need not appear as an economic competitor, and it may even be advantageous to engage with him in business transactions. But he is, nevertheless, the other, the stranger; and it is sufficient for his nature that he is, in a specially intense way, existentially something different and alien, so that in the extreme case conflicts with him are possible” (27)
Schmitt has a problem with liberalism:
“Liberalism is one of its typical dilemmas…of intellect and economics has attempted to transform the enemy from the viewpoint of economics into a competitor and from the intellectual point into a debating adversary… The concern here is neither with abstractions nor with normative ideals, but with inherent reality and the real possibility of such a (friend/enemy) distinction” (28).
Liberals do not understand or embrace the friend/enemy distinction, and this is problematic. Liberals would rather engage in economic competition with what should be their enemies. However, when it comes down to the task of making war, a real possibility in the affairs of states, the liberal will be baffled because they do not know who their enemies are. For the liberal, they have only amenable competitors. “War is the external negation of an enemy” (33).
The political friend/enemy distinction makes it clear where one’s loyalties lie:
“Their pluralism consists in denying the sovereignty of the political entity by stressing time and again that the individual lives in numerous different social entities and associations. He is a member of a religious institution, nation, labor union, family, sports club, and many other associations. These control him in differing degrees from case to case, and impose on him a cluster of obligations in such a way that no one of these associations can be said to be decisive and sovereign” (40-1).
The concept of Humanity is problematic for Schmitt. Firstly, “Humanity as such cannot wage war because it has no enemy, at least not on this planet” (54): it is problematic because it does not allow for the friend/enemy distinction. Schmitt goes on:
“The concept of humanity is an especially useful ideological instrument of imperialist expansion, and in the ethical-humanitarian form it is a specific vehicle of economic imperialism. Here one is reminded of a somewhat modified expression of Proudhon’s: whoever invokes humanity wants to cheat” (54).
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